


Blood Spilled

by emrys (livingshitpost)



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, Genocide, Headcanon, Honor, Hurt/Comfort, Idealism, Loss of Innocence, Moral Dilemmas, Morality, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Sorry Not Sorry, Trauma, War, War Crimes, War of the Thorns | Burning of Teldrassil, looking at the world through rose-tinted lenses, naivete, not really anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 18:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15846780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingshitpost/pseuds/emrys
Summary: "write a soldier's journal entry on his first day at war. then write his last entry."kinda fudged it since i added more entries n some stuff after lmao,,The Horde isn't what it was when you served it.





	Blood Spilled

_This is it. The Alliance is on our doorstep, preparing to try to take the Undercity. I can barely sit still to write this. I'm not sure if I'm excited or scared. My first battle is a big one. I want to win. More than anything else, I want to help bring the Horde to victory._

_People keep telling me that I should be resting, but I can't. We're only hours away now. I need to get out there. Stretch my legs before the fight. Something._

_I want to make my father proud of me._

* * *

_We lost._

_Although I have to admit, the Alliance's new king is impressive. He brought his men up from the brink of death. We would have won if not for him._

_I've been out for five days. I'm still recovering in Orgrimmar, but at least I'm alive._

_Lord Saurfang was captured, but that means he's alive. I'm glad to hear that._

_Hopefully I'll be in fighting condition again soon. The other troops have been deployed in Zandalar, and I want to join them as soon as I can. I want to fight against the Alliance with them and bring honour and glory to the Horde._

* * *

[Several pages have been torn out of the journal.]

* * *

[The page is covered in blotches of ink and dark scribbles, some of which have ripped through the paper.]

* * *

[The page is covered in illegible text; likely a mixture of Orcish and Zandali. The handwriting is jerky and the letters flow into one another carelessly with no regard for readability.]

* * *

_I'm sorry, Father. The Horde isn't what it was when you served it._

* * *

_I don't know where to go from here. I don't know what to do._

* * *

_I've been captured by the enemy. I don't understand a word they say, but there's a woman here who knows orcish. She gave me a new journal after they took mine and read it. I'm keeping it under my cot just in case._

_She says the king wants to talk to me. I feel sick._

* * *

The troll sighs when he wakes the next morning to find the first page of his leather-bound journal gone. He can't say he's surprised, but it's still disappointing.

His ears twitch as he hears voices from down the hall. The words are garbled nonsense to him, but he recognizes one of the voices; the woman from before. Footsteps slowly draw closer as the voices grow louder. He scrambles back into his cot, pretending to still be asleep.

"Zekhan?"

He stays still and silent.

The door to the cell unlocks.

He sighs again, collapsing in on himself slightly, then forces himself to sit up.

The king stands beside the woman, slightly awkward in spite of the bulking armour.

Zekhan turns to the woman, eyes wide. "What is he doing here?"

"He wants to ask you some questions," she replies.

The king enters the cell, kneels before the troll, and says something in Common.

"You didn't struggle after we captured you," the woman translates. "Why is that?"

Zekhan glances from the woman to the king, watching for any sign of aggression. "I . . . I didn't see a point."

"Can you elaborate?"

He swallows, shifting his position to appear less like a frightened child. "We fucked up," he said simply. "The Horde isn't what it used to be. It isn't what it was when I was younger."

"How is it different?"

He looks up incredulously. "When I was younger, I never heard stories of _how my people helped to kill hundreds upon hundreds of innocents_." He stands, towering above both the king and the woman by nearly a solid foot. "None of us ever looked up to, much less  _followed_ , an insane undead bitch!"

The woman pauses for a moment, then translates for the king, voice level.

The king looks up into the troll's eyes, reaching up slowly to his face, and wipes away an angry tear rolling down Zekhan's face.

The troll's knees buckle.

The king says something softly. Zekhan doesn't know the words, but he understands the meaning.

" _I'm sorry_."

**Author's Note:**

> hjlahsjdf this is. Very self indulgent. anyway zekhan/anduin (zekduin?) is a good ship and needs more content :/


End file.
